Your erotic stories

Shrugging into the jacket of his tuxedo, Jacob smiled hearing the chatter of the crowd that had rapidly gathered in the parking lot below him in anticipation of the doors of the club opening. Earlier while making his rounds seeing that everything was ready he shook his head glancing outside seeing the wealth of jewelry that flashed and the vibrant colors of the couture clothing the women were sporting as they clung to the arms of their tuxedo clad gentlemen.

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I stand and watch her walk toward me. Her fingers are cool and dry as she places the collar around my neck, nimble as they buckle it in the back, the leather touching my skin all the way around, not tight, only touching. I feel her breath stir my hair. A snort of laughter escapes me and I stifle it quickly. She pauses, her hands still on the buckle, and leans around to look at my face. "Yes?" she inquires, lifting an eyebrow, that same slight half-smile barely curving her perfect dark lipsticked lips.

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"I must be crazy," Elise thought fleetingly as she jabbed the needle into her left breast, two inches below the nipple. It hurt, but not as badly as the needle already buried in her right breast. That one was still stinging, sending a thrill through her that left her gasping. She had hoped that the one in her left breast would balance the pain. Pulling her breast up by the nipple, she withdrew the needle, blessed it in the smoke of the incense, and then stabbed again.

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I recall the exact moment when I realised that my friend John's girlfriend, who's name is Emma, had fantastic, sexy little feet. We were out shopping; we being myself, Jim Hodges and a few others. Those being John, Emma and my girlfriend at the time, Joanna. Joanna and I finished that very night to be honest, but she's not really an integral part of the story anyway.

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In my experience it is more men than women who are into peeing. But in my case it was quite the opposite -- I never fantasized about it and if you had asked me I would have been disgusted. Here is how that changed. Firstly let me tell you something about myself. My name is Peter and I'm 35. This happened when I was 30. I'm 5'11, with dark hair and a muscular body.

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1.The Class Owen slumped wearily in his English Literature seminar. The speaker was droning on about The Nose by Gogol and while Owen would have found such an absurdist tale difficult to grapple with at the best of times, his late night of drinking made such mindless prattle even harder to bear. Blocking out the lecturer Owen smiled ruefully to himself.

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I hadn't been getting along with my wife now for some time, in fact thinking about it, it had probably been a few years. Yet after twelve years of marriage we were comfortable with each other and any change would rock the boat and cause too much hassle, especially for the children. We just seemed to put up with each other and get on with our lives. We lived separate lives really yet still had some love for each other.

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So how long have you been into feet? Who am I? What's my name? Irrelevant. You don't need to know my name, my age or my star sign. What you do need to know is that I work as an S2 auditor for Deloitte, a global financial services firm in their Islington based London England branch. I'm attractive, hard working, driven and get on very well with my colleagues, so with this in mind I think you can see how, when I was chosen amongst five other members of my department to take part in the prestigious upcoming Rising Stars exhibition at the Estoria hotel in Manchester, it didn't come as much of a surprise.

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It was Friday and I had the day off as holiday, I had already planned to go to my favourite fetish club that night with my friends and I thought buying some new fetish gear was a must because I wanted to treat my self. My name is James and I work in a large insurance firm, my best friend and club buddy is a girl called Carla who I had known for a while now. There are four of us and I am the only guy in the group. We are all into the fetish scene and my particular fetish is high heeled boots!

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I had been going out with Jo now for a month, and I was beginning to wonder if she really was serious about me - while we’d fooled around quite a bit, kissing and fondling, so far we had not actually gone to bed together. The opportunities never seemed to arise, or if they did, Jo would always make some excuse, or change the subject.

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